


Fashion Baby

by sirona



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: M/M, Suit Porn, Suits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirona/pseuds/sirona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Undercover at a fashion show, Steve gets mistaken for a model and manhandled into a suit. The result is... more than Danny expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fashion Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tailoredshirt's Suit & Uniform Kink Meme.
> 
>   
> [   
> ](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/196313.html)
> 
> Multi-fandom Suit & Uniform Kink Meme  
> All fandoms, characters, pairings, and ratings  
> Find the prompts [here](http://tailoredshirt.livejournal.com/196313.html)

"Oh my god," someone says behind them, a high-pitched voice full of just enough surprised awe that Danny and Steve both stiffen and turn around, expecting anything, expecting the worst, expecting Rodgers to have drugged half of the fashion show techs to get out unnoticed while the Five-0s flounder.

"You, who are you?" the wide-eyed guy asks -- Steve, it looks like, because he's eyeing him like Steve's desert.

"Hey, buddy, not now," Danny says, trying to project as much of a 'walk away from this while your limbs are still attached' vibe as he can fit in. Steve just stares, bemused.

The guy, who is incidentally wearing the _worst_ example of a shirt Danny has ever seen (shiny purple snakeskin, _really_?), barely looks at Danny before dismissing him.

"Never mind; you _must_ model for me, I will not take 'no' for an answer," the guy declares. His loud voice is definitely attracting an audience, Danny notices when he flicks his eyes to the side.

"Sorry, man, I'm not a model," Steve tries to wave him off, but the guy looks determined. He grabs Steve's arm.

Danny, watching Steve as much as the strange guy with the bizarre moustache for any signs of impending doom, freezes. He knows that look, knows that Steve can break both of the silly man's arms before Danny can even move. He sees the way Steve's eyes flash 'Danger, Will Robinson', the way his jaw clenches as he obviously lectures himself not to kill the guy.

Meanwhile, the svelte man is oblivious to the danger he's putting himself into. "JoAnne, the [three-piece charcoal single-breasted pinstripe](http://www.gq-magazine.co.uk/style/catwalk-fashion-shows/AW2008/Mens/new-york/John_Varvatos/full-length-photos?page=3#/imageno/35), if you please. Outfit this gorgeous specimen and put him out there."

JoAnne, a sleek, sophisticated-looking woman even in her horn-rimmed glasses and the measuring tape over her neck, takes Steve's arm gently and tows him away, not so gently. Steve looks blindsided, hazel eyes huge and befuddled when he turns around to glare at Danny.

"Help me," he mouths, but Danny shrugs helplessly. If they make a scene, the perp will _definitely_ know he's been tailed and skip on them. In a way, this is actually good; they'll look even more inconspicuous, because Steve in his cargoes and shirt sticks out like a sore thumb in between all the carefully chosen ensembles.

Danny loiters a little, checking out the models and keeping his eyes peeled for Rogers while he's waiting for Steve to come back. Ten-odd minutes later, there's a soft tap on his shoulder. His senses are undisturbed, so he knows there's no danger around him. He turns, expecting to see Steve standing behind him. And he is.

Danny stares. He stares some more. He is dimly aware that his mouth is maybe hanging open, but it's taking a back seat to the sight before his eyes -- of Steve, in something that shimmers and hugs his body like a glove (a very fine, loving glove). The suit's jacket drapes over those broad shoulders beautifully, and tapers down to Steve's trim waist like it was made for him.

Danny's eyes, running down over every inch of Steve's body he can see, fastens on what's underneath the jacket.

"That's a waistcoat. You're wearing a waistcoat. I didn't even think you knew what a waistcoat _was_."

"I don't, really, but this is kind of comfortable," Steve says, pushing away the jacket's flaps and running his hands over it. Danny watches them like they're diffusing a bomb.

The waistcoat looks _sinful_ , and there's the slightest gap between the tails and the belt of Steve's pants, which look like they're painted onto his hips. For the first time in a very long time, Danny can't think of a single thing to say that isn't, "fuck Rodgers; you, turn around and get in the damn car before I snap and throw months of self-control out of the window, bodycheck you into that wall over there and kiss you until you can't breathe". His pants are getting uncomfortably tight the longer he watches Steve, who is looking at Danny in bemusement.

"You okay, Danno? You've gone kind of red."

Danny wants to strangle him. Surely, _surely_ he can't be _that_ obtuse, seriously.

He isn't. The look in Steve's eyes shifts until it turns considering and far too thoughtful for Danny's liking. Steve starts towards him, long, prowling steps that make Danny's blood boil in his veins with the need to put his hands on him, and it's an effort to hold his place.

"I think you like my suit," Steve muses, but really, he's looking nothing as uncertain as his words suggest.

There's a flash over Danny's shoulder that startles them both.

" _Gorgeous,_ " the little man squeaks, clapping his hands. One more, Jose," he tells the photographer, who obediently lifts a long lens to Steve's face. "Can you look like that again, darling? Like you want to devour us?"

Steve looks startled before his brows lock and he _glowers_. It's a look that sends the more sensible perps running away in a hurry, but the fashionista guy just looks like he's going to pass out from excitement. Danny _really_ doesn't like the way he keeps eyehumping _Danny's_ partner.

In a display of both the worst and the best timing ever, Rodgers chooses this exact moment to grab the irritating man around the neck and brandish a knife inexpertly. The guy's eyes look like they're going to pop out of his head, and his lower lip trembles a little.

"Back off or I'll cut him," Rodgers threatens. His voice shakes a bit.

Rodgers really isn't the kind of perp Five-0 normally handles, but they're trying to play nice with the new Governor, and he is a big fan of the annual Honolulu fashion show, so they'd taken the case as a favour. Rodgers really isn't worth their time, as Steve proves when he disarms the man with no more than a flick of his wrist and a twist that brings Rodgers to his knees, crying out pathetically.

The only upshot of the fiasco, which involves snivelling designers and adoring models and one very grateful PA, is that Steve is given The Suit as a thank-you present for saving the day. When they get told this, Danny barely dares look at Steve for fear of what his face might betray, but the smug look Steve sports throughout the rest of the day bides well for the coming evening. And, well -- Danny's tired fighting this all the time, telling himself he can't have it when it's obvious what's on offer, if he goes by the looks Steve keeps giving him throughout the day, _still in that damned suit_ , Jesus Christ, _why_ is this Danny's life.

His concentration is pretty much shot through the afternoon, which is why when Steve gets the drop on him Danny doesn't have to fake looking surprised, even though he kind of really isn't.

"The way you keep looking at me," Steve growls against his lips when he corners Danny in the supply cupboard, hot breath teasing his lips. "Tell me you don't want this," he says, desperate for Danny not to.

"I can't," Danny says, fisting his hands in the hem of the suit's jacket, scrunched up at Steve's waist so Danny can slip a hand underneath. "I can't tell you that."

Steve lets out a desperate groan and swoops down, mashing his mouth into Danny's, licking it open so he can slip his tongue inside, rough, suggestive, _divine_. Danny's been starving for this, desperate for Steve's body over his. The fabric feels lovely in his hands, but it's nothing on Steve's skin when Danny tugs the shirt out of the tight pants and slips a hand underneath, searching, taking. Steve plasters his front to Danny's chest, and Danny is overwhelmed by sensation -- hard muscle, heat, the smell of soap and ocean and a hint of aftershave, the hard poke of something very interesting indeed in the crease of his hip. He can't get enough, can't seem to squirm closer no matter how hard he tries; it's frustrating as fuck, to hell with the suit, he just wants it _off_.

Someone clears their throat behind them, and they jump apart, whipping around to stare at the door. It's still closed, but there's obviously someone standing on the other side.

"If I was to ask where I can find either Commander McGarrett or Detective Williams, I'm not going to like the answer, am I?" the voice says, immediately recognisable as Miss Kalike, the Governor's assistant. "Some things can't be unseen," she adds with a touch of amusement.

"Uh," Danny says while Steve rolls his eyes and pushes the door open.

"Can we help you?" he asks with a touch of exasperation.

Miss Kalike runs an eye over Steve's rumpled form, his flushed face and mouth, and Danny behind him, not looking much different. "Nothing that can't wait until tomorrow, gentlemen. Congratulations on a job well done" she says, a hint of warmth in her voice. She hesitates, eyes still on Steve. "Nice suit, Commander," she adds and walks away before either of them can react.

Steve smirks at the scowl on Danny's face. "Let's move this somewhere more private," he murmurs, and really, that's one suggestion Danny's happy to take.

\-----


End file.
